Best Bargainers Poems
THE DIVINE MARKET
The divine market is situated
In the miraculous area of divine love.
It is the great mall that contains all
It is stocked to overflow with more than enough
Materials to be bought here includes;
All you can think and ask for
And more than you can imagine or ask for.
However, this market is principled
It only admits people that are cleansed with the Blood
And its sales are regulated
As the only currency that guarantees exchange
Is faith in the heart of the buyer.
But many buyers are poor bargainers
Who buy little and perishable goods
Some enter the market with bags of faith
But leave with little perishable materials
Such that when their stock is exhausted
They lack faith to purchase more.
But some are wise and bargain well
These ones bring mustard seed size of faith
But bargain well enough to inherit the Owner
For knowing that the market’s Owner
Can be inherited by faith (even as little as a grain)
They overlook every other goods and services
And obtain the certificate to own the market.
Therefore, men, put your faith in God
And rather than buy things that only lasts on earth
Go for that which is eternal
And though you may be poor on earth
Rejoice that soon you will inherit the Owner
And all the market will then be yours.
Form:
Rose petals fell before us
Hands slid into each
Evening’s intermittent rays
Twinkled out a desperate reach.
We took those steps together
Blessed by day and holy night
With gratitude for measured feelings;
Endless love or injured flight
Fortunate ones allowed to share
A moment, or perhaps a pair.
And when the moment came;
It came for you.
No worthy breath bestowed
Or made anew.
Through curtain raised
Dawn became so still
No pulse of time to feel
For us until:
Senses stretched to yearning
As day to night entwine
Master's hand to each entreats,
Our time, from fruit of vine.
Sweet time, forever sweet
Whose endless touch we wear,
Breath as proof of life each soul to bear.
So Brief the hour given hearts to care.
Shapes mistaken in our form
The instruments we carry
Breath no less than sunless storm,
Teach life, to never tarry.
Mindless monks and fruitless sisters
Bargainers with tongues in blisters
Salesmen, pitchers, burdened ditchers
Promising a truth so coarse;
Cowards,
Watching all of this, without remorse.
Stand.
And we all stood.
Fast, with only bad and good between,
Prayers shaped
With words we could not sell,
Looking back to where we could have been
Stepped one by one off precipice;
And fell.
When the Loss is Ineffable!
By Jean Bosco SIBOMANA
Win-lose game occurs in many situations
And bargainers made it a standard saying
When involved in various negotiations
To come up with a common understanding
We lose property and it seems normal
We lose money and this is at least bearable
We lose friends and it becomes abnormal
But losing a one’s mum is truly unendurable
Mother means a lot in everyone’s life
She is the source of our existence
She is the provider and source of life
Missing her is losing our essence
We owe all from that priceless creature
From the time we are fetus in her innards
To the time we seem master of the nature
But alas, most of us treat her with disregards!
We cannot bargain to agree upon a price
encompassing free services with no gratitude.
But she is devoted to offering sacrifice
Her death is a loss to the multitude
You could not believe she truly passed away
Your thoughts are still telling you she is alive
In your dreams you see her, but goes back right away!
But the reality is that she will never be able to live
Life is a cycle and we will have our round
As there is a time for birth a departure from life;
Let’s remain stoic and keep the same bound
And wait for our fate to eternal life